Angelic

Ev ~ 19

The nightclub was warm, with quiet conversations hushed around a stage at the front of the room, a large spotlight lighting up the place.

I felt Raphael's eyes on me. "What is it?" He asked quietly, his lips close to my ear. If he were human, I would have felt his breath tickle my skin.

"I wasn't expecting this." I told him honestly.

That caused him to chuckle. "You think low enough of me to expect an actual nightclub?"

I looked at him. His expression was genuine. "No." I told him. "And nightclubs aren't so bad."

As we made our way further inside, escaping the cold London air, we continued talking.

"Have you ever been to one before?" Raphael asked as we pushed our way through a crowd of people surrounding the stage. Live jazz music was coming from the musicians on stage. Between a small bar in the back and the stage was an empty floor that couples used for dancing. Walking inside of here felt like I had travelled back a century. Maybe that's why Raphael liked it. "A nightclub?"

"I'm not as innocent as I may look." I told him as we stopped in front of the bar.

He leaned his arm on the bar, facing me. The intensity of his gaze gave me goosebumps. "You don't look all that innocent to me."

It became harder to breathe quickly after. I ignored the tightness in my chest, looking over at the stage of middle-aged men playing saxophones, trombones, and trumpets. "I didn't realize you like jazz."

"Don't insult me, Eveline." He responded, though his tone was light. I could still feel his eyes on me. "I know good music when I hear it."

I glanced back at him, curiosity getting the best of me. "You've been here before?"

"The owner is the son of a past friend." Was all he said on the subject. Suddenly I wondered what it was like to be immortal. To stay young forever, while you watched everyone you knew grow up and grow old, until someone twenty years younger than you could pass for your grandparent. But then I remembered: vampires were Downworlders. Downworlders weren't foolish enough to concern themselves with mundanes. "Dance with me." I heard him say, and I looked at him in confusion and surprise to see his hand held out for me to take.

"What--here?" I stuttered. I can't remember the last time I stuttered. "Now?"

"Unless you intend for me to lead you to an alleyway and begin dancing there, then yes. Here." He answered, his tone serious.

I examined his hand. Part of me was screaming on the inside. He was a Downworlder. I shouldn't even be here with him right now. But the other part of me--the part of me that still believed I would see Kai again and I would return back to Germany before the end of the year--told me that I should take his hand. He had saved my life half an hour ago. He wasn't going to hurt me. Besides, he was just as bored as I was waiting for Ragnor's return, stuck in this big, foreign city. Reluctantly, I slid my hand into his.

He was a surprisingly good dancer. Once we were on the dance floor, blending in with the other couples dancing to the soft, flowing music coming from the stage, he pulled me close to him, so close that our chests almost touched. He laced his right hand through mine, his hand fitting smoothly around the curve of my waist. My shock must have been written on my face, because he said, "So you think I take women to nightclubs, I have terrible taste in music, and now you believe I can't dance, either." He concluded.

Surprising both of us, I laughed softly. "To be fair, I never said any of those things."

There was a mysterious light in his eyes when I laughed. "But you were thinking them."